


Shaking (Wrap Your Arms Around Me)

by gunpowder_and_pearls



Series: Zukka Oneshots! [3]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, And then Toph will bury the body, Child Abuse, Homophobia, Hurt Zuko (Avatar), Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Ozai’s A+ Parenting, Sokka’s gonna kill Ozai, Zuko has self esteem issues, protective sokka
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:55:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26297515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gunpowder_and_pearls/pseuds/gunpowder_and_pearls
Summary: Zuko knew that Ozai was homophobic. It was hard to miss.But he’d hoped that being the man’s son would’ve at least made him hesitate in his punishment.
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Series: Zukka Oneshots! [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1890166
Comments: 24
Kudos: 498





	Shaking (Wrap Your Arms Around Me)

Zuko is shaking and he can’t stop.

He had known that his dad wouldn’t support his sexuality but he’d always had that little voice in the back of his head that told him it’d be different since Zuko is his son. He’s never been so wrong. 

He feels like a planet knocked off its axis, spinning aimlessly into space, with no direction or place to go. 

He isn’t quite sure how his dad found out. He knows Azula would’ve never said anything to him, not with both Ty Lee and Mai as her girlfriends. Ever since he’d started dating Sokka, he’d read and watched the news almost religiously, knowing that if his sexuality were to ever get out, it’d be on the six 'o'clock news within minutes. 

Ozai is the CEO of a very wealthy company, one that reaps the benefits of minimum-paid labour. Sozin Industries is a company for creators, at least to the public. New models of phones and computers are made each year, and each new release rakes in millions of dollars. 

Sozin Industries is also known to donate to large conservative organizations and charities, such as the Salvation Army. Ozai had smiled when the news of their transphobic actions hit the TV. 

Zuko was set up to become the heir to the company, because no matter how much his father hates him, he will always have to consider the public reaction to anything he does first. Although, with Zuko’s current situation, he’s not sure if his dad acted on pure rage or if he simply didn’t care what anyone might think. 

His dad was supposed to have been on a business trip and had headed home early, presumably after having been told about his son. 

Zuko doesn’t know how he’s still alive. 

His father had burned half of his face off after he dared to suggest that maybe non-heterosexual people weren’t that different and his father, in a fit of rage, had grabbed him by the hair and pressed his face into the lit stovetop until his screaming had stopped and all he could do was whisper. 

Zuko’s not sure why he ever thought that being his son would make him hesitate in hurting him for his sexuality when he’d been half blinded and deafened for barely advocating for the rights of the LGBTQ+ community. 

Ozai’s arrival had served to remind him of how little their shared blood mattered. 

His dad had burst through the front door, car pulling in so silently that Zuko hadn’t even heard him arrive, and had called for him from the hall. Zuko, two floors up, had scrambled to make it down the stairs in a way that wouldn’t show he was being disrespectful by being slow. 

Ozai had smiled at him at first, all teeth, and had asked in a deadly quiet voice if what he’d been told was true. Zuko hadn’t been able to get a word out, too busy marking the exits and attempting to calculate if he could make it to the back door or through a window before his dad grabbed him. 

His dad had taken his silence for the confirmation it was. 

The rest of his time in his house was a blur in his memory, with moments of clarity of his father shouting, gesturing wildly as he held onto the front of Zuko’s shirt and swung him into whatever flat surface was near, all while alternating between slaps and the occasional punch. Between each burst of sound was a blur of fear and pain and desperation all rolled into one feeling, accompanied by ringing in his ears.

Zuko can’t remember much after the beating began, but when his world came back into focus he found himself speeding down the highway, hand automatically dialing Sokka and putting him on speakerphone. 

He doesn’t know how he got away. 

Breaking a window and slipping out that way likely didn’t happen, as tiny bits of glass aren’t coating him. The back door is too far away from the entrance hall for Zukok to have chosen that path, as Ozai would’ve caught up to him in seconds. 

Unless his pain - addled mind came up with an escape he can’t recall, he likely got out through the front door, somehow maneuvering Ozai so that he was farther away from it than Zuko, grabbed his keys and phone, and ran. 

If any of his neighbors had the balls to call the police, although he doesn’t think any of them did since his yells of pain that have filled his house for years were definitely loud enough for them to hear, his dad could possibly be on tonight’s news, arrested for suspicion of abuse. Zuko can only send a prayer to Agni that someone else knows what happens in his house and is doing something about it.

Zuko fidgets as he waits for Sokka to answer his phone, ignoring the throbbing coming from his face and stomach. 

There are a few moments of silence where the air is only filled with the ringing of his phone before Sokka picks up. Zuko clenches and unclenches his hand on the steering wheel. The side of one of his hands is bloody, he notices in a detached sort of way. Likely from landing in glass, either broken from Zuko falling and crashing into it or Ozai throwing something. Or both. 

_ “Hey babe. What’s up?”  _

There’s a burst of warmth in Zuko’s chest at Sokka’s casual nickname for him that, just for a second, overpowers the well of panic inside him. “Hey - uh. Are you home right now?” He does his best to sound as normal as possible, working to keep the waver from his voice but knows he doesn’t succeed. Sokka doesn’t miss it, his voice much more concerned than before when he responds.

_ “Yeah, I’m home. Are you heading over?” _

“I-If that’s alright with you.” Zuko hesitates in his confirmation, a sudden wave of anxiety reminding him how stupid it was to assume that Sokka was free. He knows,  _ logically _ , that Sokka would be fine with it if Zuko crashed at his place in the middle of a blizzard after breaking in through a window, but the all-consuming doubt that fills him each time he asks for something is too big to ignore. 

_ “Of course it’s okay with me!”  _ The pure conviction in Sokka’s voice brings a smile to Zuko’s face, shaky though it is. 

“Okay. I - uh. I’m not that far away.” Zuko switches lanes, inching closer to his quickly approaching exit. “I’ll be there in a few, if that’s cool?” Zuko hates how he has to double check that Sokka’s sure, but Zuko’s a mess right now. He wouldn’t wish himself upon anyone. 

_ “Okay babe,”  _ Sokka says.  _ “Katara, Aang and Toph are over, do you want me to tell them to leave?” _

Zuko knows they all have at least a little bit of information, either learned from him or someone else, about his home life, and so doesn’t hesitate when he says no. “It’s okay. They can stay.” He glances down the street he’s turning on to. “I’m almost there. I’ll see you in a second.” He hangs up before Sokka can respond and winces at his own actions. 

Zuko can almost imagine how Sokka might look at this moment, looking wide-eyed at the screen of his phone, still lit up from the abrupt end of the phone call. Or maybe he’s mad, glaring down at Zuko’s contact picture, sick of his boyfriend’s stupid thoughts and consequential actions. It’s not that he doesn’t want to talk to Sokka, it’s just that the throbbing in his jaw is getting worse and he’s never been more scared than he is now. 

He pulls over in front of Sokka’s house and is taken aback, for a moment, over the normalcy of it. In the past half hour, his world has come crashing down around him and yet this remains completely unchanged. It’s almost nice to know how insignificant his life really is.

He could end up as a terrible person, and  _ at best _ , he could directly affect half a dozen people. It’s not as if he’ll end up with a business to run and friends are difficult to make when you don’t catch every terrible joke they throw your way, so in the end he can really only hurt his Uncle and his very small group of maybe-friends. 

Zuko considers them friends, perhaps even best friends, but he doesn’t want to assume that the friendship is just as strong going in the other direction. 

He takes a deep steadying breath and turns off the engine and climbs out of his car carefully, swinging the door shut softly when his shoulder protests his too - fast movements. He picks his way up the pathway to Sokka’s door, clenching his teeth each time a flare of pain shoots up his ankle. He wonders when, exactly, his ankle got messed up. 

He likely turned it trying to run away. 

Zuko doesn’t even reach up to knock before the door is flung open. He’s frozen, a deer in the headlights, as Sokka gapes at him, eyes scanning him over and cataloging the various wounds that are visible. 

“What happened?” Sokka steps back quickly, making space for Zuko to step through the doorway. The moment he’s inside the door is swung shut behind him and he’s being herded into the living room. Out of the corner of his eye he notices both Katara and Aang cuddled up on the couch and Toph, knees tucked under her as she sits curled up in an armchair. 

“I - uh…”

Sokka stops him with a gentle hand on his chin, tilting his head up as he examines the smaller teenager. “Who did this to you?” He asks darkly, eyeing the split lip and blossoming bruises that adorn Zuko’s face. He reads the answer in Zuko’s eyes. “I’ll kill him. You hear me? I’m going to kill that bastard.”

Zuko lets out a shuddering breath and slumps into Sokka’s arms. His boyfriend takes a stumbling step back at his weight, but gently wraps his arms around Zuko’s waist, holding him upright as he tries to breathe. 

“H-He found out about us and…” He trails off for a moment, the sharp inhale that Sokka takes only serving to make him shake harder. “He tried to kill me. He tried to  _ kill  _ me.” A sob escapes his throat and he finds himself being bundled against Sokka’s chest, being gently rocked side to side in a comforting motion. 

“It’s going to be okay,” Sokka whispers, face pressed into Zuko’s hair. “You’re safe now. It’s going to be okay. You’re safe.”

  
  



End file.
